The Second Rise of the Dark Lord
by BlueOrchid2
Summary: Harry Potter died in Godric's Hollow, and his body was possessed by Lord Voldemort, who is affected by a weird type of amnesia. When young Harry-Tom finds out that he is revered as a hero by the Wizarding World, he decides that he will continue his older counterpart's work, and learn from his mistakes.
1. Chapter 1

_The Avada Kedavra Curse, also known as the Killing Curse, is one of the three Unforgivable Curses, the only three spells in the world that utilise Soul Magic and can be still used by a non-Necromancer. The Avada Kedavra's purpose is to separate the soul from the body, and its ancient version was most used by Necromancers during extensive healing, especially if the patient had severe brain or nerve damage. Only around the year 1450, an Indian Dark Lord managed to invent three spells, the Unforgivables, by revisiting Necromantic rituals and adapting them for a normal wizard's magical core. It was in this way, that the modern Killing Curse was born, and murderers all around the world nowadays use it on fellow human beings to kill quickly and painlessly._

* * *

"Please, not Harry! Kill me instead, please, not Harry!"

"Move aside, you foolish girl!"

"No, please! Not Harry!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

A green light shone, and a red haired young woman fell lifelessly to the floor. The man who had killed her calmly turned to the crib. The one-year-old stared at him with wide innocent eyes, tear tracks marring his puffy cheeks. A barely audible sigh escaped the man as he raised his wand yet again: "Avada Kedavra!"

The Curse hit the child, killing him instantly, but thanks to his mother's sacrifice, the curse rebounded, destroying his killer's body. This normally would have been enough to cause death, but that man was no normal wizard: Lord Voldemort had taken measures to ensure his own immortality, and the destruction of is body only left him as a bodiless wraith. Instinctively, the spirit searched for a body for possession, and found the child's warm body, his heart still beating frantically, despite its soul being gone: all this had happened in the space of a few seconds.

Voldemort's wraith possessed the child, but unfortunately Harry's one-year-old body couldn't possibly contain and understand the whole life and actions of a grown man and Lord Voldemort's mind, to protect itself from insanity, forgot everything that had happened when he was older than his current body's age: so, Harry-Tom now only had the memories of his first year and a half of life.

Exhausted, he immediately fell into a fitful sleep, and when he woke up the next day, he remembered one more day of his life as Tom Riddle. Taking a few moments to process the information, the infant already subconsciously realized that it was memories he was seeing, and they had happened a long time ago. When he understood this, he looked around, trying to remember what had happened the day before and where he was: it was dark and dusty, and his cot was mouldy and uncomfortable. The poor child started crying in distress, and the door of the cupboard was soon wrenched open:

"Shut up, you freak! You're going to wake Dudley up!", a man that in later years Harry-Tom would dub 'the Purple Walrus' yelled at the infant, making him cry even more hysterically in fear. And thus began Tom's second childhood at the Dursley's.

* * *

When Harry-Tom was six, he learned about magic thanks to Tom's memories: he had been bullied by some teens that lived at the orphanage with him, and suddenly they all grew painful boils on their faces. So, Harry started experimenting, just like Tom did in his memories -which still 'updated' every morning- and with the added knowledge was able to control his abilities much more quickly and efficiently than his older counterpart. His powers helped his home situation immensely: Dudley very quickly learned to leave him alone, and Petunia and Vernon soon did too. Harry had always been pissed about the fact that Tom's life at the orphanage was much more comfortable than his life at the Dursley's (at least he had his own room and regular meals there!), but had never protested after his fourth birthday: Petunia had gifted 'the little freak' with a broken hanger, and told him that he should be happy that they weren't shipping him to an orphanage. Harry had looked at her seriously and said: "At least there I would have food and clothes. I would really like to go live at an orphanage."

This had unfortunately earned him two weeks locked in the cupboard, at the end of which he was given Dudley's second bedroom, and an orphanage was never mentioned again. Harry had heard his Aunt and Uncle whispering at night about 'freaks going to get angry if we send the boy away' and 'better not anger those murderers'.

Now though, the very threat of magic earned Harry some peace, and his Aunt and Uncle were very careful to leave him alone. His Uncle had at first tried to 'beat the freakishness out of him', but Harry was used to dealing with bullying thanks to Tom, and he had prepared in advance: when Vernon's fist collided with Harry's nose, all the glass in the house exploded, and the six-year-old faced his huge angry Uncle head on, and said calmly, not minding his broken nose in the least:

"If you hit me ever again, I'll make sure it's your skull that explodes the next time."

And he walked away, going to the bathroom to patch his face up. His Uncle never tried to touch him again, and the Dursleys stayed out of his way and provided him with everything he asked for.

* * *

One day, a few weeks before Harry's eleventh birthday, a weird letter came in the post addressed to 'Harry James Potter, Second Bedroom'. Harry read it, decided that it must have been a joke, and completely forgot about it. A few days later though, when he woke up, Harry remembered Tom's first meeting with a man called Dumbledore, and was completely ecstatic to find out that he was a wizard, and was in fact special like he always thought. He was very happy to have found out this information from his memories, and not in person like Tom, because in his ecstasy he would have probably let slip too much about himself too. After all, even knowing almost nothing about magic, Harry was very conscious of the fact that it wasn't exactly normal to remember every single day about a child's life that had happened more than fifty years before, and if Dumbledore's reaction to Tom being able to speak to snakes was that worrying, who knows what someone could say about him? After all, even the fact that he referred to himself as 'Tom' usually was strange, because he hadn't known he was called Harry before primary school: his _family_ (and how it hurt to call them that!) had always told him his name was 'boy' or 'freak'.

Still, now Harry was completely confused: why hadn't anyone come tell him about magic? Why did they only send him a stupid letter that was going to be immediately thrown off as a joke? And how in the world was he going to tell the Dursleys? And he didn't even have any money! Yes, the Dursleys gave him the little things he asked for, but they were never going to pay for his tuition at a freakish school!

Breathing deeply to stop his panic, Harry calmed down and tried to think things through rationally. Finally, after a long internal debate, he decided to ignore the letter completely, and when he didn't answer by the 31st of July as was specified, someone would probably be sent to get him from Hogwarts, and he would plead complete ignorance. After all, what was the sense in sending Hogwarts letters to ignorant kids if you didn't even check if they had thrown it out?

Thankfully, Harry was right. The morning of his eleventh birthday, Dudley, Petunia and him were eating breakfast, Vernon having already gone to work, when the bell rang. Petunia answered the door and Harry tensed, straining his hearing. At Petunia's cry of: "You! Freak!", he almost stood up and did a happy jig, if Tom Marvolo Riddle slash Harry James Potter behaved in such an undignified manner. Which he didn't, by the way.

Harry now expected his Aunt to go on a tirade on freaks sullying her footstep and about the neighbours seeing, and he was therefore completely amazed when she exclaimed:

"Finally! Have you come to take the freak out of our hands? I tried contacting you years ago, but that damn old man never even answered! Good, now that you're here, you can take him away and we'll never have to see him again! Boy! Go pack all your things! You're leaving!"

Harry and Dudley shared an incredulous look, not noticing that it was probably the first time the two of them shared an opinion, and Harry quietly went upstairs to pack, completely befuddled by this unexpected turn of events: not that he had anything to say against it! Absolutely not! He had been debating for years on leaving the Dursleys, so who was he to protest if Petunia decided to kick him out?

In the hall he saw a quick glimpse of a dour looking man, with black hair, sallow skin and a large hooked nose, who at the moment was gaping unattractively at Petunia. Hurrying up the stairs, he quickly shoved all his possessions in a trunk, and then stole Dudley's school bag to put the last few things that didn't fit. He then hauled his trunk downstairs, and waited patiently and silently in the hall, where the man was yelling at Petunia, who was yelling right back.

"What the hell do you mean, that you never told the boy about magic? And Lily dying in a car crash! How dare you! After all she did for you, you dare treat her son in such a way? What, did you abuse him too, since you were at it?"

"That freak deserved everything he had coming! He used his freakishness to hurt my Diddikins! And what about Lily? The wench went and got herself killed! And then you freaks dare dump her son on my doorstep without even a by-your-leave! Dumbledore only left me a bloody letter and blackmailed us with death threats in raising the ungrateful freak!"

Huh. Petunia must be really angry if she was swearing. And this conversation raised some very interesting points: his mother had been killed, she had been a witch and Petunia knew all that and chose to lie to him. Well, that explained why he didn't get a home call like Tom… speaking of which, had he actually heard right? _Dumbledore had left him on the bloody doorstep?_ Well, that settled it! He hadn't liked the old man as Tom, but now he absolutely loathed him! And here was to hoping that the guy wasn't a Professor any longer and was long dead and buried… but Petunia hadn't heard from him in years, so maybe he had died in the meantime? One could always hope…

Noticing that the black haired man, a Hogwarts Professor probably, was staring at him, Harry realized that he had his 'scheming face' on, when he had promised himself that he would always wear a wide-eyed look of innocent wonder for his first encounter with a witch or wizard. Kicking himself, Harry decided to change tactics slightly: he rounded on Petunia, and said in a whimpering voice:

"My Mum was killed? But you said that my parents died in a drunken car crash because they were worthless freaks!", here almost snickered at the Professor's completely livid expression, "and, and it's actually true that I was left on the doorstep?", Harry stuttered a bit for show, willing his eyes to tear up, "b-but I thought you were lying! Wh-who could be that cruel?", Harry whimpered, turning towards the Professor, silent tears running down his cheeks. The Professor actually flinched when confronted with his innocent green eyes, and then whipped out his wand. Petunia screamed and dove in front of Dudley, who had been watching the proceedings open-mouthed from the kitchen, and Harry flinched in surprise. The Professor waved his wand in a complicated pattern, and Harry's trunk shrunk to the size of a matchbox.

"Do you have everything?"

Harry nodded dumbly, snapping his mouth shut when he realized he was staring. The man grabbed his arm and dragged him none too gently outside. He looked to be restraining himself from killing Petunia on the spot, and Harry commiserated. After having walked for a few minutes, he dragged him in an alleyway, grabbed him tighter and with a quick "Hold on to me." he twisted on the spot. Harry felt himself being squished on all sides, and just when he was about to pass out from lack of air, the world stilled again, and they found themselves in a completely different alleyway. Harry fell to his knees and started retching, while the dour man sighed heavily and conjured a handkerchief for Harry to mop his mouth with when he was finished. When Harry was able to stand again, the man briskly set off, and Harry ran to catch up. The man stopped in front of a decrepit little cottage, waved his wand in a complicated pattern and then led the child inside. He made him sit on the sofa in the sitting room, and then went to make tea. He came back and sat down on the armchair, and sipped his tea in silence. Harry instead didn't touch his tea, opting to stare curiously at the man who had in effect just kidnapped him. He was wearing high collared black robes that flared dramatically when he moved, and had a severe expression on his face. He was probably one of those people who always scowled, and only spoke in growls or with thick sarcasm.

Finally, the man had calmed down a bit and he pinned Harry with his black gaze, making him want to fidget from the intensity of the stare. Sighing, the man looked away, and started in a monotone:

"I am Professor Severus Snape. I teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He paused, as if waiting for Harry to interrupt, but Harry-Tom had already decided that this was a very dangerous man to cross, and so he remained silent, waiting patiently for an explanation.

"You received a letter admitting you to the school didn't you? Well, that's because you're a wizard. Just like your father" he said the word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth, and Harry decided to never ever mention his father in this man's presence, "and your mother Lily. I will be accompanying you to Diagon Alley to shop for you supplies tomorrow. For now, you will be living with me until we find other better accommodations for you. Do you have any questions?"

Snape was probably expecting to be barraged with useless questions about magic and whatnot, but he didn't expect Harry to ask what he did:

"You knew my mother, Professor? Do you have a photo of her? I have never seen one, and I would like to know what she looked like."

It was obviously the right thing to say, and Harry gave himself a virtual pat on the back: Snape's eyes narrowed and he became absolutely livid when he heard that Harry didn't know what his mother looked like, but his eyes thawed perceptibly when he looked back at the child, and he quickly went to get a photo album.

Looking at the various photos of his mother and listening to Snape's heartfelt commentary, Harry thought that the man was almost a stalker: he had been obviously obsessed with the red haired girl even when they were friends, but it had only worsened after they drifted apart. He actually had a paper clipping from a newspaper that announced the date of Lily Evan's and James Potter's marriage!

Harry-Tom's first thought was obviously how to use this to his advantage, and he listened to Snape's descriptions of Lily attentively and promised himself to make sure that Snape would see him in the same light he had seen his mother.

* * *

It was only after dinner that Harry finally broached the subject he had been itching to discuss since that morning:

"Sir, who killed my parents? And why?"

Snape stared at him shrewdly and Harry had the impression that the man was staring at his very soul. He finally seemed to come to a decision, and he answered:

"There was a Dark Lord. Your mother and father were fighting against him. Unfortunately, a prophecy was made: _the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… _I do not know the rest. If you wish to know it, you will have to ask Headmaster Dumbledore. Anyway, the Dark Lord heard the first part of the prophecy and took it to mean that you were going to be the one with the power to vanquish him. Your parents went into hiding, but they were betrayed by a close friend of theirs. So, on the 31st of October 1981, the Dark Lord turned up at their cottage in Godric's Hollow and killed Potter and Lily. He then turned his wand on you, but for some strange reason the curse rebounded, and the Dark Lord was killed instead. Dumbledore reckons that it was _the power of love _which saved you," he continued with a sneer, and Harry almost scoffed too, "and he thinks that He Who Must Not Be Named is not dead yet… merely very weakened. I happen to agree with that thought."

Nodding dumbly, Harry processed all the information and asked:

"He Who Must Not Be Named?"

"The way the cowardly masses call the Dark Lord for fear of saying his name."

"And what is his name?"

Snape fixed him with another suspicious stare, and then went to get a book. Before handing it to Harry, he said:

"In here you will find a lot of information which is not known to the general public. Please refrain from telling anyone how you came to know all this."

That night, Harry lay in bed and started reading. The first chapter was a quick overview of why this particular Dark Lord was considered one of the most powerful and vicious wizards of all time. The second chapter started instead with a summary of his early life. It was the first sentence that made Harry gasp aloud, his heart started beating frantically, and his palms became sweaty: _Lord Voldemort was born Tom Marvolo Riddle in a London orphanage on the 31st of December-_

Harry stared at the page in shock, rereading the same passage dozens of times. It was him? _He _was Lord Voldemort? The Dark Lord? One of the greatest geniuses the world had ever seen? Now very excited, he rushed through his early life's summary, seeing that he graduated Hogwarts with the highest scores in centuries. He had even won an award for special services to the school in his sixth year! Though the book's author hypothesized that he had been the one to open the mythical Chamber of Secrets and set a monster on the Muggleborn students. Still, he was Slytherin's Heir! And he knew perfectly well who Slytherin was because Tom had just finished reading _Hogwarts: A History _two days before, and was completely convinced that he was going to be in Slytherin House. Oh, this was fantastic!

However, Harry's excitement was short lived: the more he read, the more he was shocked and horrified to discover that he had become a murdering madman, killing hundreds of witches and wizards. And that Harry couldn't understand: why was he killing magical people? And why did his methods and ambitions become less and less noble and simply stupider as time went on? When he was 'killed' by Harry Potter, he had practically become a terrorist hell-bent on world domination! Something must have gone wrong somewhere, because from what Harry-Tom read, he had practically become insane as the years wore on, and in the end he had almost ripped the magical world apart singlehandedly. And Harry was pretty sure that he would come to love the magical world in no time: hell, Tom had been to Diagon Alley dozens of times already, and from what he had heard Hogwarts was even better than that!

So, little Harry-Tom promised himself that now that he had a chance to a new life, he was going to do his damn best to make the world a better place, and he would learn from his older counterpart's mistakes.


	2. Chapter 2, Diagon Alley

The next day, Snape brought Harry-Tom to Diagon Alley. They apparated to an alley next to the Leaky Cauldron, and then went inside. The pub was exactly the same as in Tom's memories, and very crowded. They were halfway through when someone suddenly exclaimed:

"Sweet Merlin! It's Harry Potter!"

Harry-Tom was suddenly bombarded by a crowd of well-wishers, all trying to shake his hand or touch him in some way. Now, both Harry and Tom had never been the touchy-feely type of people thanks to their respective childhoods, and he almost felt claustrophobic with the crowd pressing in on him. Pissed by his own weakness, Harry yelled angrily:

"Enough!" the crowd silenced immediately, and retreated a few steps, "who are you? How dare you touch me without my permission?"

"B-but Harry Potter, sir! We only wanted to thank you for your defeat of You-Know-Who!" a man in the crowd said.

"Thank me? You're thanking me for my parent's death?" the crowd winced and guilty glances were exchanged, "and anyway, if I'm such a _hero_" Tom sneered "to you all, why did you leave me to the tender care of an abusive Muggle family? I only found out yesterday that I'm a wizard! So excuse, if I really don't want your thanks. You could all go rot in a gutter for all I care."

And Harry stalked angrily away, Snape following him with a surprised and then speculative expression on his face.

* * *

Diagon Alley was even better in person than in Tom's memories, and Harry didn't even have to feign his wide-eyed wonder. Snape briskly set off, and Harry had to run to catch up, his head swivelling from one side to the other, trying to drink it all in. They were suddenly in front of Gringotts, the wizarding bank, and Harry looked up at the building in awe: for Tom it had fast become the symbol of the Wizarding's World might, and it was the same for him more than 50 years later. Snape strolled inside, and Harry-Tom gave a respectful nod to the goblins guarding the entrance, noticing the surprise and then approval on their faces at the gesture.

Professor Snape walked up to a free teller, and when Harry caught up he said:

"Your vault key Mr. Potter."

Harry stared at him uncomprehendingly, and said dubiously:

"I'm an orphan Professor. I don't have any money."

The goblin at the teller actually gasped, and all the other goblins in hearing range stopped and stared.

"What do you mean Potter?", Snape growled, "your parents left you everything they had, and your family was quite rich. Muggles can't use Gringotts accounts, but they still should have given you your key," he continued condescendingly.

Annoyed, Harry fixed his Professor with a glare and said:

"You heard my Aunt, sir. I was abandoned on the doorstep with only a basket, blanket and letter. No vault key."

"You-you were abandoned on a doorstep!" the goblin spluttered, "what does this mean? Who dared defy the Potter Wills?"

The enraged goblin suddenly stood up and with a quick "Come with me, Mr. Potter" he set off and brought Harry and Snape to the door of an office and after a rushed conversation with the goblin inside in another language, he gestured Harry inside.

"You will have to wait outside, Mr. Snape. This is private business that concerns only the Potter Head of House."

"Potter! Can you handle getting your school supplies alone or do I have to wait for you?"

"I can do it myself."

"Very well. Be at the Leaky Cauldron at half past twelve for lunch."

"Yes sir. Thank you for helping me Professor."

Snape departed with a curt nod and Harry walked inside the office and sat down in a comfortable chair in front of the goblin's desk.

"I am Goldhook, Mr. Potter. I have been in charge of the Potter fortune since your grandfather's time. Now, if you would please tell me what you know of your personal finances?"

"Nothing," Harry-Tom said bluntly, "I was abandoned on my maternal Aunt's doorstep right after my parents were killed, and I only discovered yesterday that I am a wizard. My relatives thought that the Wizarding World consisted only of freaks, and they liked to pretend that it didn't exist."

"So, you are telling me that you were never checked on by Ministry officials? It is common practice for wizarding orphans left to Muggle relatives to be visited by a witch or wizard at least once a year. Also, on your eleventh birthday I sent you an overview of all your assets. When you didn't answer, I simply thought that you were rude like most other wizards, but I now see that you never received the letter. I will contact your solicitor, and all this will be hopefully clarified by next week. Also, all vault keys that are in circulation will be retrieved and new ones issued."

"Wait… my solicitor?"

"Yes, the Potters have a family solicitor. It is needed when one is so wealthy. Mr. Perks is also the one who deals with Public Relations. In the last decade he has managed to increase your wealth considerably thanks to royalties on Harry Potter products. You are now the fifth richest person in the Wizarding World Mr. Potter."

Harry-Tom gaped. All his self-control that he prided so much was completely dashed, and he simply couldn't wrap his mind around it. He was THAT RICH? Oh Merlin.

"Er...I-I didn't know that… er…"

Shaking himself from his stupor, Tom tried to get his mind back on track, and blurted the first thing that came to mind:

"Do I have a house?"

"The house in which your parents lived at their time of death has been converted to a national monument, and the Ministry pays a hefty sum every year for it. If you wish for it to become your residence, I can arrange that."

"No, thank you. I don't think I need it for now. Maybe next summer."

"Very well. If I can be so bold, I would suggest repairing what was once Potter Manor instead of Godric's Hollow. It was almost completely destroyed when Charlus and Dorea Potter, your paternal grandparents, were attacked by Death Eaters, and then the Potter family didn't have the funds to repair it. Now though, you could return the Manor to its former glory."

"Yes, please!" Tom said excitedly, "I'd really like to see where my family used to live."

"Good. I will have Mr. Perks contact an architect, and there should be the Manor's blueprints in the main Potter vault, along with the remaining furniture that wasn't destroyed in the attack."

Harry almost bounced in his chair with excitement, his face transformed in savage joy, and his eyes flashed red, making him look almost bestial rather than prettier as one would expect. The goblin didn't comment, but realized that Harry Potter was very different from what the Wizarding World imagined. He was proved correct by Potter's next words.

"Are you bound by client confidentiality? If I tell you something now, you won't be able to tell others right?"

Goldhook nodded, and Harry continued,

"Then I would like to know if Tom Marvolo Riddle had a vault here. He may also have been known under the name Lord Voldemort."

"Wh-what? And which authority would you have on his vaults?"

"Well…" Harry said with an impish smile, "I am Harry Potter, but I was also called Tom Riddle long ago. Everyone who thinks that Voldemort died that night is sorely mistaken. I might not have all of my older counterpart's memories, but I sure as hell know who I am."

"W-Well… in t-that case, I will have to check…" Goldhook stammered, his eyes wide and fearful. He got up and unlocked a drawer in a filing cabinet to his right, taking out a piece of parchment and a quill.

"This is a Blood Quill, Mr. Potter. It is an artefact highly controlled by the Ministry and only used in official documents or for finding out one's parentage. It will use you blood instead of ink. Please right your name on the parchment."

Harry wrote out 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' on the parchment, and gasped when the words were carved on the back of his hand. They disappeared almost immediately, and he turned his attention back to the parchment. The letters had rearranged to form the name 'Tom Harry Marvolo James Riddle Potter', and Harry commented:

"Huh. That's a long name," noticing Goldhook's astonished stare.

A few moments later new writing appeared, and the names James Potter, Lily Evans, Thomas Riddle and Merope Gaunt were soon written above his name.

"I-I…" the poor goblin stuttered, completely out of his depth, before shaking his head and trying to regain his wits.

"M-mylord, it seems as you were right," Harry started at the address, and Goldhook continued, "then you are in fact also Lord Slytherin… this changes everything! Even a minor can be the Head of Slytherin House, unlike House Potter when you have to be of age. This means that you are legally emancipated for being Lord Slytherin, and can thus become Lord Potter too! From the moment you put on the Slytherin ring you will become a legal adult in the wizarding world, Mr. Pot- er Lord Slytherin-Potter."

The goblin was practically salivating with glee and, wide-eyed, Tom asked:

"Really? You mean if when I was Tom Riddle I came to Gringotts to take this test when I was eleven, I could have become a legal adult?"

"Ah, no My Lord. The Slytherin Head of House cannot have a Muggle parent. He Who Must Not Be Named was quite irate when he found out. Still, I think that the ring will accept you now, seeing as your parents are technically James and Lily Potter."

At Harry's nod, Goldhook left to retrieve the ring, and Tom used the time to reflect on all that he had just learned. The goblin came back twenty minutes later with an antique wooden box in hand and a wiry bespectacled man following behind.

"Lord Potter, this is Mr. Perks, your solicitor. He is under a confidentiality contract regarding all Potter business, so I thought that you might want to tell him all the recent developments too?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Mr. Perks, Goldhook and I have just found out that I am Lord Slytherin."

"L-Lord _Slytherin_? But how? The Potter family doesn't descend from the Slytherin family! The closest relation are the Gaunts through the Peverell family, but they descend from a different side of the family."

"The Gaunts and the Potters are related?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, remembering Tom's mother's name.

"Very distantly… the Peverell fortune was split between the two families centuries ago, and it was with that money that the Potters built Potter Manor."

Harry-Tom nodded, and looked back at Goldhook. The goblin slid the box towards him, and said:

"Only a Parseltongue can open this box. Are you…?"

Open Harry hissed, and the lock sprang open. He reached out, caressing the ornate decorations on the box, which depicted snakes of many different species, their eyes inlaid with precious jewels, and open the lid. Inside there was a silver masculine ring, in the form of a snake biting its tail, an ouroboros, its eye a glittering emerald. Harry examined the ring closely, before putting it on his finger. It immediately shrunk to the right size, but nothing else happened. Harry looked up at the two adults, and saw twin expressions of horrified amazement on their faces.

"Well? What happened?"

Goldhook cleared his throat, and explained:

"The ring resized itself to fit you, so it means that it accepted you as Head of House. If it rejected you, it wouldn't have fit you and it would have fallen off as soon as you moved you hand. If you were someone from outside the family and you tried on the ring, it would have cursed you, and you would have a few months of life left at the most."

"Really? Do all Head of House rings work like this?"

"Yes, they do. The Heir rings instead are not as deadly, but trying them on when you have no right to them still isn't very pretty."

"Oh yes!" Mr. Perks shook himself from his panic at the realization of exactly who Harry Potter was, "I brought the other two rings with me."

"Two?"

"Yes, one is the Potter Head of House ring and the other is the Black Heir ring. Sirius Black is the current Head of the Black House, and you are listed as his heir in his will. Of course, you can refuse it if you wish."

"Refuse it? Why? And who is Sirius Black?"

Mr. Perks stared at Harry in surprise before remembering:

"Ah, yes. Goldhook told me that you found out about the Wizarding World only yesterday. I will sue the Ministry, Dumbledore and half the world for this gross negligence! How dare they! No wonder that you never answered my letters! The fools probably set a mailbox for gathering all you magical correspondence and they never told you or me about it! You just wait! I'll demand millions as reparations!" Mr. Perks ranted heatedly, and Harry-Tom decided that he liked the man. He looked meek and unassuming, but Harry could see that it was a front to make people underestimate him: the man's eyes glittered with intelligence and his vehemence in protecting the rights of the Potter family was extraordinary.

"Mr. Perks!" Goldhook interrupted the solicitor's tirade, "Lord Slytherin-Potter was asking about Lord Black."

Mr. Perks looked sheepish for a moment and turned back to Harry:

"Yes, yes of course. Well, Sirius Black was best friends with James Potter. He was best man at your parents' wedding, and they made him your godfather when you were born. He should have been your guardian when they died, but he was arrested for the murder of fourteen people." Perks sighed heavily and continued, "It is also said that he betrayed the Potters and told You-Know-Who the location of their house, which resulted in their deaths. Personally, I find it hard to believe, but then I never would have believed him to be a killer, so…"

Harry-Tom nodded slightly, and thought of it a bit. The two adults let the child brood, and quietly discussed the adjustments they had to make because of the Slytherin Lordship and the Riddle vaults. Finally, Harry decided what to do, and said:

"I don't want to accept the Black Heir ring yet. I do not know this man and I would like some more time to find out more about him. Could you help me with that Mr. Perks?" at the solicitor's nod, Tom continued, "For now, I'd also like to keep the fact that I am Lord Slytherin secret. Is that possible?"

"Of course, Lord Potter. If you concentrate, your ring will become invisible, and as for the fact that you are a legal adult, the inheritance laws change from family to family, so it is not a stretch that the Potter Lordship was the one who gave you adult status," Goldhook explained.

"Good."

Mr. Perks handed Harry a simple wooden box and opening it Harry found a black celtic band, with purple amethysts entwined in the knots. Seeing Harry examine it closely, Perks explained:

"The Potter coat of arms consists of a black rampant stag on a purple backdrop. Hence the black and purple."

Tom nodded and put the ring on his middle finger, next to the Slytherin ring, and it immediately resized to fit his small hand. He then made the Slytherin ring disappear and smiling with accomplishment, Harry and Mr. Perks than went on to talk about the repair works that would have to be done on Potter Manor, and their probable cost. Harry was shocked at how expensive it would be, but when Goldhook told him the total sum that was in the Potter vaults, Tom understood that it wouldn't put that much of a dent in his funds. Mr. Perks was also going to try and hire some house-elves (little creatures who did housework for free). Goldhook then gave Harry a bunch of parchment which detailed all his Potter possessions and his shares in various businesses.

The three of then moved on to the Slytherin vault: there was quite a bit of money thanks to bank interests which had accumulated in the centuries since the vault had been last opened, but the most precious thing which was contained was the collection of ancient books, some of which actually dated back to the times of Merlin. Goldhook explained that it was also the largest private collection of Parseltongue books in the world, and probably the biggest ancient book collection in the United Kingdom. Unfortunately, it hadn't been tended to in centuries, (except for when heirless benefactors willed their book collections to the Slytherin family at their death) and the protective charms on the books had to be revisited. Thankfully, it was a service which Gringotts offered, and for a hefty sum Harry arranged to have the Slytherin, Potter and Riddle vaults checked and all heirlooms ruined by age restored.

Goldhook gave Harry another stack of parchments detailing all his Slytherin and Riddle possessions, which consisted of quite a bit of money and some precious artefacts. Finally, after getting a pouch from which he could withdraw money without coming to the bank (that worked only for him, so that people couldn't steal his money even if he lost the pouch), they were finished, and Harry-Tom walked out of Gringotts, much richer than he had been before going in.

* * *

Looking at his list, Harry decided to go get his wand first. It was a good idea, because Ollivander made him try hundreds of wands, and when he finally found one which was almost right (holly and phoenix feather), he decided that he had to change the wood, and it would only be ready in a couple of hours.

Looking at his watch, Tom noticed that he still had about two hours before having to meet Snape, so he decided to go get a trunk and then a new wardrobe. The trunk shop had a huge selection of suitcases, trunks and bags, and Harry finally settled on a black multiple compartment trunk and had the Potter crest engraved on the sides. Every compartment was set with a different password (which he decided would all be in Parseltongue to make it even more secure) and he had anti-theft and fireproof charms added to it, along with featherweight and automatic shrinking charms. Tom was quite happy to note that one of the compartments was made especially for storing books, and another for potion ingredients and quills, ink and parchment. It made for a very tidy trunk, just as Tom preferred. He also bought a black bag for holding his schoolbooks and had his family crest sewn on the lapel, and then had the shopkeeper shrunk his trunk with a tap of his wand and put it inside the book bag.

Satisfied, he went looking for a clothes shop. He quickly found Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, but decided that it was too low class. After all, if he was to be a Lord, he better look the part. Finally, he found another more expensive robe shop, and asked for a whole new wardrobe, plus some Hogwarts robes. The clerk was ecstatic to be serving Harry Potter, especially after seeing the Lordship ring, and went immediately to work taking his measurements. After a while, he commented:

"Lord Potter, your clothes will be ready by this afternoon, when you can come back and try them on. We can make the last minor adjustments then. Also, if I may me so bold, everyone usually gets their Hogwarts robes at Madame Malkin's. Their materials are much less expensive, but they last longer, and parents usually don't like to spend that much on their kids for something that they will outgrow or ruin soon."

Tom thought about it, then decided, "Thank you for your advice, but I would prefer to get robes of more expensive materials, even though they will last less. I will get one pair of more sturdy robes at Madam Malkin's later. Better to have more than less."

The clerk smiled and nodded, helping him down the stool. Harry walked out the door and, checking his watch again, noticed that he had about ten minutes before his appointment with Snape. He hurried to Ollivander's, where the weird man had just finished making his wand.

Ollivander stared at him for a minute with a worried expression, before handing Harry-Tom the wand. The child felt a surge of power the moment he touched it, and with a quick flick a shower of colourful sparks erupted from the tip.

"Yew with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches. Curious, so very curious."

Seeing Harry's raised eyebrow, the wandmaker explained:

"I remember every single wand I have ever sold, Lord Potter. It is very curious that the phoenix whose feather is in your wand only ever gave another feather. He Who Must Not Be Named did terrible things with his wand. Great yes, but terrible. Yew and phoenix feather, 13 and a half inches. How curious that you share both the wood and core… and you look quite like him too. Your face is a mix between Tom Riddle's and James Potter's, with Lily's eyes of course… but then young Riddle had green eyes too. Darker than yours Lord Potter, but just as captivating... Ah, Lord Potter, how foolish has the Wizarding World been to declare you their Saviour! I hope that this time you will have some mercy on us fools… I really hope so…"

Harry-Tom stared at the man in surprise, torn between horror and smugness:

"Y-you…? H-how did you recognize me?"

"Ah Lord Slytherin-Potter, I see many things which others don't. Do not worry, nobody will recognize the Riddle features in your face, unless they are looking for them and have an eidetic memory like me… everyone remembers He Who Must Not Be Named at the height of power, but they tend to forget what he was like when he was young. The most charming young man I have ever met, he had people eating out of the palm of his hand with just a glance and smile… such charisma for such a cold-blooded child! Yes, yes, I really hope you have tempered your ruthlessness My Lord, or I fear the world will not survive your second rise to power."

Tom paid for his wand in silence and left the shop with a last lingering glance at Ollivander, who was staring sorrowfully at him, the wandmaker's forlorn premonitions still ringing in his ears.


	3. Chapter 3

Snape was waiting for Harry when he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and the two of them then moved to a private room for lunch, preferring to keep away from the crowd. Harry was silent, still thinking about Ollivander's words, and he didn't notice Snape's worried glance. He did notice Snape's sudden gasp though:

"What is that?"

The Professor grabbed his hand, staring at the Potter ring in astonishment. For a second, Tom thought that he had touched the Slytherin ring too, but Snape's hand went right through where Harry felt the invisible ring, and he relaxed a bit.

"It's the Potter ring. I am the Potter Head of House now, and legally an adult."

"A-an adult?"

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that. Thank you for letting me stay at your house yesterday, but there is no need for that anymore. I can find some personal lodgings now, as soon as I retrieve my belongings from your house."

"Personal lodgings? You have a house?"

"Not at the moment. My solicitor thinks that it will be inhabitable by Christmas. For now, I can stay in a hotel till September 1st."

Snape looked at him evenly, gauging his sincerity, before saying:

"You can stay at my house. You can use the Floo to get to Diagon Alley every day, and on September 1st I can accompany you to King's Cross. As long as you do not disturb me when I'm in the potion's lab, it will make me feel better if you continue living with me. You may be a legal adult, but you are still eleven and I'm your Professor."

Harry-Tom thought about it for a moment before asking:

"What is the Floo?"

"It is a method of wizarding travel which connects two fireplaces. You throw a pinch of Floo powder in my fireplace, yell 'Diagon Alley' and you exit from a fireplace in Diagon Alley."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this strange travel method before grinning and saying:

"Very well. If it doesn't inconvenience you, I would really like to continue living at your house. Thank you very much Professor."

Harry made his best grateful puppy eyes at Snape, and was rewarded with a hurried nod, the man looking quickly away, but not before Tom saw the pink flush on his cheeks. He almost smirked smugly, but managed to control his facial muscles, and the two of them ate the rest of the meal in comfortable silence.

* * *

After lunch Snape asked Harry if he needed help with the rest of his shopping, and at the child's negative response he told him to get a higher quality Slytherin kit at the apothecary instead of a Hogwarts kit, and that his Floo address was simply 'Spinner's End'.

Almost skipping in happiness, Tom continued shopping. He bought everything on his Hogwarts list besides his books before going back to get his clothes. There, he tried every one on and an hour later he exited the shop with a whole new wardrobe. Every robe and shirt had a Potter crest sewn above the heart, usually the same colour as the clothes so as not to be too ostentatious. The clothes were all in black, beige or dark colours such as red, green, purple and blue. Trousers, underwear, pyjamas, button-up shirts, pullovers, casual robes, cloaks and dress robes in a variety of expensive materials where now in his trunk, and socks, gloves, hats, scarves, shoes and boots completed the ensemble. The most expensive piece was a long cloak in Acromantula silk, that could be worn over any type of robes for a formal occasion or whenever Harry felt like flaunting his wealth.

Harry-Tom then headed to his last stop for the day: the bookshop. He had left it for last knowing very well that he would spend hours inside, and was almost bouncing with excitement because he didn't have any money restriction like Tom had in his memories, and he could buy any book which caught his fancy. Harry entered Flourish and Blotts, and quickly got his schoolbooks. He then dug out the parchments on which the complete list of books that was in the Potter and Riddle vaults was written (the Slytherin vault didn't have an inventory yet, and it was one of the things that the goblins were going to correct), so as to not buy a book twice. He noticed that _Hogwarts: A History _was listed in the Riddle vault, and he wondered if it was the same copy Tom had read during the summer.

Hours later, Harry staggered tiredly out of the shop after having put his purchases in his new trunk and shrunk it with a tap of his wand on the lid. He was so tired that he didn't even notice that he was sporting a goofy grin, something very rare for him and, when he got back to Spinner's End, after a quick supper he immediately went to bed, falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next morning Harry-Tom found Snape in the kitchen, sipping coffee and reading the Wizarding newspaper 'The Daily Prophet'. Seeing Harry, the Professor passed him the paper without a word, and Harry sat down to read:

"_Harry Potter comes back to the Wizarding World. Yesterday morning, our eleven year old Saviour came back to our world after almost ten years of absence. Unfortunately, the child is very angry at us: when he was assaulted by well-wishers in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron, he snapped angrily that if we cared so much for him, we wouldn't have abandoned him to the tender mercies of an abusive Muggle family. Yes, my dear readers, Harry Potter was abused, and none of us cared enough to check on his living conditions for all these years. Sources inside the Ministry tell us that yesterday Potter's solicitor Adam Perks was seen in a meeting with Wizarding Child Services and the Head of Auror Office- _blablabla… makes for a very interesting read… umpf, serves them right! They lift me up on a pedestal and then don't bother to even check up on me for ten years."

"If it's any consolation, Headmaster Dumbledore told everyone that you were well and that he couldn't disclose your location for security reasons."

"Of course… and the fact that he was breaking the law mattered very little to him, did it?" Harry commented bitterly.

"Breaking the law? What are you talking about?"

"My solicitor told me that when a wizarding child is placed in a muggle environment, Wizarding Child Services are required to visit at least once a year to check on his living conditions. I never saw hide nor hair of these Ministry officials, and I'm pretty sure that if they had seen that I lived in a cupboard until I was six, they would have done something about it."

"A cupboard!" Snape exploded, his magic crackling in the air with his rage.

Tom stared wide-eyed at the show of temper from the usually reserved Professor. Oh, dear. Maybe the man had actually started to care about him? Considering that two days before he had thought him a James Potter mini-clone, Harry-Tom must have made a wonderful job at convincing him so soon that he was a Lily-clone instead…

Snape breathed deeply, trying to rein his magic and temper back in. Merlin, how he wanted to go kill Petunia in this moment… if it wasn't for the fact that the kid was present, he would already be halfway to Surrey. Though, considering the way he was staring at him now, Severus almost thought that the boy wouldn't mind all that much. He did a good job at hiding behind an innocent, wide-eyed façade, but his mask had slipped a few times… or rather he had let Snape see the brain underneath. At this moment, he was staring at him with a serious, calculating face, not bothered in the least by the feel of angry magic in the air.

Severus shivered. The boy wasn't anything like he thought he was going to be… more than Potter or Lily, Harry reminded him almost of the Dark Lord, in the rare moments when he was sane… but maybe he was just getting paranoid with age… after all, how can a young child have the same mannerisms of the most feared Dark Lord of the century?

Snape shook his eerie thoughts away, and resolved to never tell Dumbledore his doubts or anything negative about Harry. He had sworn to protect Lily's child, and he would do it, even if it meant going against the Lord of the Light.

* * *

The next day Harry found out that thankfully wizarding hats covered his scar, so he was able to walk around Diagon Alley without being mobbed. He didn't like wearing a hat much, but even though hats nowadays weren't an essential part of the wardrobe like in the thirties, still about half the witches and wizards walking around had one on, especially older folk, so he didn't even look out of place.

Harry made his way to his solicitor's office, where he met Mr. Perks, who side-along apparated him to Godric's Hollow. They had a quick tour of the cottage, and then they headed towards the cemetery. There Mr. Perks left Harry alone in front of the Potters' grave, and Harry found himself staring at it nervously, his emotions in a jumble. After all, even though he didn't remember it, he was the one who had killed them, but at the same time Lily and James Potter were his biological parents. Two out of four in any case, and he really didn't know what to think about that. He had killed three of his parents, and his mother Merope had died giving birth to him. How could he not feel guilty about it? He had stopped hoping and dreaming of someone coming to save him and love him when he was six and had discovered he had magic, but knowing that he would never have a family because of his own insane choices made a bitter feeling swell in his chest. He was suddenly filled with consuming hate, and he vowed that whoever had made him stray on the path of insanity would pay dearly for it. Merlin, he was only eleven, he shouldn't be dealing with these kind of things. True, he had lived twice, so technically he was 22, but he estimated his mental age to be in his early teens. He was more mature than those his age, but not by all that much…

Sighing heavily, Harry set down the flowers Perks had conjured and after one last longing look at the grave walked away.

The two of them then apparated to Potter Manor, and Harry-Tom was completely amazed at the sheer _size _of the place, even though it was in ruins. Yes, he had understood that it was big, and the reconstruction would cost a humongous amount of money, but he wasn't really prepared to see what was practically a palace in front of him, with gardens and woods and streams and hills stretching as far as eye could see, and all of it was still part of the Potter property. Most of it was covered in what looked to be a very extensive impenetrable forest, but it was still impressive.

Seeing Harry's wide-eyed expression, Mr. Perks explained:

"The property extends for a considerable amount of land on all sides. It was used primarily as a place to grow magical plants, some of which were really rare. They should still be there, but the lands are all overgrown and haven't been cured in more than a decade."

"Now I understand why so much of the money goes to restoring the grounds! They're huge!"

"Yes, they are. Still, you should get a big chunk of the money back by selling the excess parts of magical plants and animals to apothecaries and Potion Masters."

Nodding, Harry-Tom pointed to a building with a small turret behind the left side of the Manor, which was visible because a big part of that wing had collapsed,

"What is that?"

"Those are the stables and the owlry. Centuries ago they were filled with all manners of creatures: Pegasuses, Abraxan horses, Hippogriffs and so many others! Unfortunately, the Potter family steadily lost some of its wealth with every generation, and when the Manor was destroyed, there were only three horses and a couple of owls, and the grounds were already mostly unkept. All the animals were sold when your father went to live at Godric's Hollow."

Harry nodded distractedly and after another hour of exploring, Mr. Perks apparated him to Snape's house.

* * *

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

Blinking his eyes from shock at hearing Snape finally calling him by name, Harry quickly asked what he had been wondering about the last couple of days:

"The book you gave me on the Dark Lord says that he had a symbol, the Dark Mark, that he always used, but it didn't explain what it looked like. Could you please tell me? Do you know?"

Staring at him gravely for a few minutes, Snape seemed to come to a decision. He rolled up his left sleeve, and showed Harry his left forearm.

Looking away in shame, Snape thankfully didn't notice the child's awed expression: Harry stared at the vivid black tattoo, the skull with the snake around it, moving in a slow sinuous manner. He reached for it with his hand, feeling the Mark's magic, _his magic_, but stopped with a jolt when he was a few centimeters away, remembering that the book had said that Death Eaters could feel it when their Master touched their Mark. It was already a small miracle that the Professor hadn't realized who he was! Now that he knew Snape had a Mark, he could feel the magic on it very easily. Snatching his hand away, Harry-Tom looked at Snape's face in wonder, awe in his eyes. He felt a sudden urge of possessiveness: Snape was **his**. He had sworn himself to him, and a part of the Dark Mark's powers -aside from being able to call his Death Eaters to him no matter where they were- was that none of them could hurt him directly, physically or magically. Of course, if they decided to kill him, they could always burn the house he was in, or something equally indirect, but they couldn't Avada Kedavra him directly or stab him in the guts.

"W-when did you..?"

"When I was eighteen. I had just finished Hogwarts, and I was alone and weak. He was very charming and tempting, whenever he wanted something that he couldn't get with violence. I became a spy for Dumbledore less than a year later."

Tom had to control his rage: the man had betrayed him! _How dare he!_ He was very proud of himself when he managed to restrain from lashing out at Snape with his magic. It was thrumming beneath his skin, crackling and wanting to get out and _hurt _this man, this traitor, who dared defy him _for Dumbledore of all people_! Gathering all the self control he could muster, Harry-Tom managed to bite out one word without yelling:

"Why?"

Distracted by his memories, Snape didn't notice the child's clipped tone and murderous expression, and answered:

"When I found out that he intended to kill Lily, I begged him for her life. He told me that he would try, but I didn't believe him. I met Dumbledore and begged him to protect her and her family that same night."

"And he lied."

"Who? The Dark Lord? He always did…"

"No, I meant Dumbledore. He promised to protect the Potters, and in less than two years they were dead. And then he saw fit to abandon me on the doorstep of an abusive family that same night, and never checked on me again." Harry commented bitterly, his rage at Snape transferring completely to Dumbledore, and not caring anymore if the Potions Professor knew about his feelings towards the Headmaster, and saw yet another glimpse of his true nature. He had tried to be an innocent sweet little kid, he really had, but just hearing Dumbledore's name sent him in a rage, and the situation just worsened with every new thing that he found out. At this moment he was beyond caring really.

Snape stared at the kid, thinking on his words. Damn, he knew that Harry was a manipulative little thing, and he knew that Dumbledore had used his love for Lily to make him turn traitor, but hearing Harry lay it out like that made it seem as if the Headmaster had actually planned the Potters' death and Harry's abuse! Shaking his head, he tried to clear his head of doubts, but he knew that the seeds of distrust had already been sown and, no matter what he did, from this moment on he would always doubt Dumbledore's motives.

Merlin, but this kid was a handful… he had turned his world on its axis in less than a week! Snape almost wished he was a dunderhead like all the others he had the pleasure of teaching… certainly dealing with him would be easier then? One could always dream…


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

So! I really like stories where Harry leaves Hogwarts and finds another school, and quite some time ago I had this idea for a story: what if it was Tom Riddle who changed schools? After all, the guy is a genius! What if he had gone to a school even better than Hogwarts?

And, of course, I just had to begin writing it immediately.

…but! The other day I was despairing about The Second Rise because, yeah, I have some ideas, but not really enough to make a whole story… it was going to end up like Little Green probably (many oneshots put together in chronological order more than an uninterrupted story).

And then I think… wait a moment! What if I merge them together?

To put pressure on Dumbledore, in Second Rise Harry-Tom was going to give an interview sometime that told the Wizarding World that Hogwarts sucked and threatening that he was going to find another better school. Well… why not really leave? Dumbledore is an overbearing suspicious old politician that watches Tom waaay to closely… and what better way to get out of his grasp than leave Hogwarts?

Soooooo…. This has just become a cliché Harry-leaves-Hogwarts-for-another-fantastical-school fanfiction! Though it's actually Voldemort instead of Harry in this case…

Ps: I changed a few sentences in the last chapter, it's only been about a week since Harry-Tom's birthday, not a month.

Pss: someone commented on one of my stories that I write 'were' instead of 'where' many times, and I checked back: turns out that my Word is idiotic and it exchanges those two words like 75% of the time! Argh!

* * *

The next day, Harry-Tom decided to finally go see the Potter and Riddle vaults. He took the cart to the Potter vault first, and it opened the moment he touched it with the Lord's Ring: this way, there was no need for vault keys, and Goldhook had already had all other keys retrieved. Harry-Tom couldn't even imagine who were the idiots who could have had access to all his money otherwise… they could have sucked him dry! Thankfully though, there had been no withdrawals since 1981.

The Potter vault contained all manners of things: jewellery, books, loose gems, furniture, portraits and lots and lots of gold. Harry spent some time looking around, and was sorely tempted to get a necklace with the Potter coat of arms depicted on the pendant. Sighing, he controlled his urges, and headed to the Riddle vault. He was not a girl, for Merlin's sake! …it was just that the thought that he finally had something that was _his _and that had belonged to _his family!_ He still couldn't wrap his head around it: he descended from two wonderfully important lines! He was the last living descendant, and it was all up to him to make sure the family name didn't descend into obscurity: he was going to make his name rise to new heights! Mordred and Morgana, he was so excited at the thought, he was almost skipping! Before, at the orphanage and the Dursley's, he had thought that he was simply just another orphan who had to make a way for himself in the world, but now… now he had a duty towards his family. And wasn't it so invigorating, the fact that someone that mattered (even though they were all dead) had expectations on him? It was like someone cared…

Tom smiled, and entered the Riddle vault. Goldhook had told him that Voldemort had almost never come to the vault. In fact, the last deposit he had made, without withdrawing anything, had been in 1972… True, the vault wasn't a big, ancient one like the vaults for old pureblood families, but did that really bother him so much?

Then Tom remembered that he had been killing Mudbloods and Muggles right, left and centre, and decided that yes, maybe the sight of the vault in the 'newer' part of Gringotts really bothered Voldemort that much.

There wasn't much inside, but Harry-Tom spent much more time in there than in the Potter vaults: after all, these were the things that he had gathered in the course of his life. He only gave a quick glance to the various knick-knacks (knowing himself, most were probably cursed or something, so he kept a good distance from them), that he had collected especially during his travels around the world in the late Forties and Fifties, before moving on to the books and, more importantly, the diaries.

Old-Tom had had a wonderful idea a few weeks previous, when he had read up on something called a Memory Charm. He had been horrified about the fact that someone could erase his memories, and the fact thatit was only considered a minor offence in the eyes of the law too, if you got caught. What the hell was wrong with the Wizarding World? And then people wondered why Voldemort had started a bloody revolution…

So Tom, being paranoid by nature, had decided to invest in a journal, to record his thoughts/observations/suspicions. And Harry-Tom -who, if possible, was even more paranoid than Tom Riddle had been- had quickly copied his older counterpart's actions the first time he came to Diagon Alley.

So, here they were, dozens of diaries: Tom Riddle's whole life written on paper. Harry looked around, but couldn't find his first one. Frowning, he wondered where it was, and reached out for a random one. He took it off the shelf and opened it: it was completely blank.

Disappointed, Harry realized that he had probably set a password, most likely in Parseltongue. He began hissing possible words at the book, but to his dismay none of them was right. Sighing, he tucked the book away, deciding to deal with it when he had more time, and looked around some more. He found several interesting books, many of which had handwritten notes in the margins. He took the ones that dealt more with Wizarding Society topics (like a very interesting tome on the laws concerning Vampires in Britain through the centuries) or the basics in various magical topics, and left behind the ones that dealt with advanced areas of magic for when he knew more.

Finishing that, he looked over the pieces of jewellery that where displayed in a case nearby, the last thing contained in the vault. There weren't many, but all were impressive and Old-Tom had actually had the foresight of writing their description on small tags. Harry's favourites where 'Tiara gifted by Queen of Somalia, 1949' and 'Platinum bracelet with ouroboros and amethysts, 1952'. The tiara was quite eye-catching (diamonds that big tend to have that effect…), but the bracelet, a simple snake biting its tail with purple gems for eyes, was a perfect blend between his Houses: purple was the Potter colour, and the snake was obviously Slytherin.

Grinning, Harry took it out and, exiting the vault, went to Goldhook's office. He had the goblin make the bracelet into a reusable Portkey for Potter Manor, and resolved to always wear it. It cost an outrageous sum, but now Harry had a way out if there was an emergency.

Merlin, he couldn't wait for his Apparition licence!

Shaking his head, Harry-Tom exited Gringotts and looked around, deciding what to do. His solicitor had told him that he should give an interview to a newspaper (it would help his public relations in the long run), and had set an appointment for the next day. So, today he was free to explore. Tugging his hat to make sure it covered his scar completely, he set off, looking especially at the shops that hadn't been there in the Thirties.

He suddenly stopped in front of 'Magical Menagerie'. He had always despised all non-snake animals, and had no intention of buying one, not even an owl. Still, one of his enemies in 1976 had somehow found out this innocuous fact and decided that releasing what was practically a zoo in one of Voldemort's safe houses was a good idea: Hippogriffs, Kneazles and a Manticore -along with a bunch of Bundimuns who later destroyed the house's foundations- were set loose, probably with the hope that the Dark Lord would be scared to death or something. Suffice it to say, that Voldemort hadn't been amused. It was a hilarious episode really, reading about it now, but his hate of animals had become legendary because of it.

Now, Harry-Tom was very worried about the fact that that damn Dumbledore seemed to have too much of an active interest in his life: if there was one person who could guess that he was in fact Lord Voldemort, it was that old goat, and Harry knew that the man was completely ruthless, no matter how much the Light revered him. Merlin, just thinking about meeting him face-to-face gave him the creeps. So, why not muddle the waters a bit? He was pretty good at lying, and this little detail could go a long way in proving his innocence.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped into the shop, trying to hide his disgust and looking around hoping to find at least _one _decent beast. When his entrance was greeted by a cacophony of sounds and colours and smells, he almost stepped out again. Taking another fortifying breath, he started looking around.

Half an hour later, his search had been narrowed down to a lime green Fwooper (which had an uncanny resemblance to Dumbledore), a Jobberknoll (a mute tiny blue bird), a Kneazle or a Puffskein. Sighing heavily, Harry-Tom approached the shopkeeper:

"Excuse me ma'am, I'm interested in these four animals…"

"Yes, of course dear boy" -Tom almost sneered at the address- "Kneazles and Fwoopers required a licence from the Ministry though. Is it your first animal, sweetheart?"

Harry nodded reluctantly, not comfortable with admitting his ignorance in the subject.

"Well, then may I suggest the Puffskein? It's a very easy animal to care for, while the Jobberknoll has to be fed frequently and its cage cleaned regularly." She went on to chat about all the pros and cons about having a small, undemanding animal, and ten minutes later Tom was exiting the shop, feeling suspiciously like he had just been duped. He looked down at the round orange-with-black-dots ('It's a very rare coloration, dear! One in a thousand!') ball of fluff in his hands and almost laughed aloud: the Dark Lord with a pet that was usually kept only by children or girls! Dumbledore would never see it coming! Giggling, he gently put it in his breast pocket, reminding himself to name it, and went to explore some more.

* * *

Harry-Tom could tell with only a glance that Rita Skeeter was a ruthless reporter, not above twisting facts to make her stories more sensational. He was privately glad that Mr. Perks had insisted on being present because, after everyone had settled down, Skeeter turned such a hungry gaze towards him that he almost shuddered. Merlin, if he ever decided to become a reporter, he, an ex-Dark Lord, probably wouldn't manage to be as scary as her.

"So, Mr. Potter. It is such a pleasure to be able to finally meet you. The Wizarding World has been waiting for your return for a decade, after all."

"Well, Ms. Skeeter-" "Rita, call me Rita." "Well, Rita, you see, I didn't even know about the Wizarding World's existence until a Professor came to see why I didn't answer the Hogwarts letter last week. So I don't really see how people could have expected me to return before."

"You mean nobody ever told you about the Wizarding World? What about your magical guardian?"

"I never had a magical guardian. On the first of November 1981, I was abandoned on the doorstep of my magic-hating Muggle Aunt in the middle of the night."

"A-abandoned? On the doorstep?"

"Yes, she found me there the next morning. Obviously, charges have been pressed against Albus Dumbledore for child abandonment the moment my solicitor found out what had happened. Also, an investigation has been started concerning the fact that Ministry officials never came to check on me: it is common practice for wizarding orphans left to Muggle relatives to be visited by a witch or wizard at least once a year." Tom repeated Goldhook's words, and felt quite smug at Rita's flabbergasted and greedy expression.

She quickly latched onto the subject:

"Ah yes, you have stated that your relatives were abusive. Tell me, why didn't you speak of the abuse to Muggle authorities?"

"Oh but I did! It's just that they completely forgot about me in the space of one or two days, so I never did it again. Now my solicitor believes that someone modified their memories and that is why they never checked on me again," Tom lied smoothly, seeing Mr. Perks duck his head to hide a smile from the corner of his eye. After all, even knowing Harry-Tom for only about a week, he could already tell that it was something completely contrary to Tom's nature. He had in fact never spoken to the Muggle authorities, but since his outburst in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron, he had been laying the groundwork to distance himself from Voldemort as much as possible: Tom Riddle would never have voluntarily admitted a weakness such as having been abused, especially not in front of a crowd, and yet Harry-Tom had done it. Now, he just had to make sure that no one found out that he hadn't been abused since he was six, that he had never spoken to a policeman in his life, and that he was only playing with the public's sympathy. And if his schemes destroyed Dumbledore's credibility in the meantime, well, that was just a convenient side effect.

* * *

When Skeeter and the photographer finally left, Harry-Tom and his manager settled down to discuss various issues that had sprung up in the last week. Mr. Perks told Harry how the cases against Dumbledore and the Dursleys were proceeding, before starting to fidget:

"Um, there is something, m-my Lord, that I should probably know as your solicitor. O-of course, if you do not wish to tell me…"

The boy stared at the uncharacteristic display: was Mr. Perks actually stuttering? Harry gestured to go on, completely taken aback.

"W-well, I was wondering, if you were called to testify, you might be asked to drink Veritaserum. Of course, all the questions would be passed by me, b-but I was wondering, if someone mentioned something about the D-Dark Lord…?"

Harry blinked, surprised by the question.

"Oh, I hadn't thought about that."

He thought about it for a moment, before asking the nervous man in front of him,

"If I don't remember something, but I know it happened, will I tell about it under Veritaserum?"

"The truth serum only works with something you know as fact. That's why it's unreliable. You have to ask a very specific question, because the answer can change depending on how you word the question."

"Well, then it's pretty simple. If you asked me if I'm Lord Voldemort"-Mr. Perks flinched-"I'd probably answer yes, but if you asked me if I remember ever killing someone, I'd say no."

The solicitor's brow furrowed in confusion, and Harry-Tom decided to tell him his secret. Under the solicitor's magical contract, and anything told in confidence couldn't be repeated without Harry's permission for unfavourable purposes. That meant that the client's secrets couldn't be spilled even using Legilimency, Veritaserum or torture.

"I have the memories of Lord Voldemort, but only till he was exactly five months younger than my current physical age. So now, I remember his childhood till the summer before Hogwarts. It's the eighth of August today, and I remember Tom Riddle's life till the seventh of August 1936. Tomorrow morning, I'll remember one day more."

The solicitor blinked, astonished, and thought about it for a minute, before visibly shaking himself and changing topic.

"The reconstruction of the Manor is proceeding very smoothly, and will probably be finished even faster than we first thought. The grounds instead… well, to put it simply it's a mess. They haven't been tended to correctly in half a century and they are warded against Muggles and Unplottable, so it already attracts a very high concentration of magical animals and plants that you don't usually find in other locations. Still, we were already counting on that. The unexpected complication was the fact that when the Manor was destroyed and your Grandparents killed, a couple of Nightmares were attracted by the death and destruction and, finding the place abandoned, had a foal. The two adults left years ago, but there is still one Nightmare running around the woods, which attracted an even greater amount of magical beings, who in turn attracted others, and so on. In a nutshell, the end result is that you have one of the wildest and most magical lands in the UK. Of course, it can't compare to the Forbidden Forest in Scotland and the dragon reserve in Wales, but give it a century in the same conditions and you'll probably be close."

Harry-Tom realized that he was staring with his mouth open, and snapped it shut immediately. Uh. This was a right mess. He had known that the Manor grounds were overgrown and teeming with magical wildlife, some native, some imported, but he hadn't been expecting something of this calibre. He was going to have to spend a fortune just to make them free of peril! He had no intention of turning them into something that resembled a golf course, but it would be nice to be able to wander the woods without being attacked by some wild animal or plant: since he had heard about the stable's existence, he had dreamed about recreating it, and riding around the grounds on horseback just like his ancestors had. Sighing heavily, Harry-Tom asked:

"What is a Nightmare?"

"It's a horse-like creature that is born in places where some kind of great strife has happened, as long as it's abandoned. They attract other magical flora and fauna, making the usually barren area come alive again. They aren't really that rare, but they are very rarely sighted by humans, mostly because of their habitat. Still, they are classified as Dark beasts by most of the Wizarding World. I think that the USA, Canada and Australia are the only ones that don't, but then, in those countries practically all types of Dark and esoteric magic are legal."

"All right. What are we going to do about it?"

"Put it down," Mr. Perks said immediately, and Harry's eyes widened, a strangled 'no!' escaping him.

"M-milord?"

Mr. Perks watched the suddenly pale boy worriedly, wondering why the normally aloof and cold child was having such an extreme reaction.

Harry-Tom, for his part, had been even more surprised than the solicitor by his reaction. Astonished, he examined his feelings, and realized that he actually felt a sense of _kinship _with the beast. Kinship! With a horse! And just because it was born in a 'place of great strife' as Mr. Perks had said… and it was a Dark creature, and one of his aims in the war had been a better integration for all living beings… Harry huffed, wondering when he had become so soft-hearted for an _animal _of all things. Buying a fluffy beast to divert Dumbledore's attention was one thing, but this was a horse! Wait a moment, hadn't he just thought that he wanted to reopen the stables…? Eyes narrowed in determination, Harry ordered:

"Tell me more about Nightmares."

"Well, there are four different types, depending on the place they are born. They can be distinguished by the colour of their pelt: red or black, with flaming hooves and mouth, or white or cream with a poisonous mist coming from their mouth."

"They sound like the Four Horses of the Apocalypse," Harry-Tom commented with a raised eyebrow.

Mr. Perks smiled, "Yes, the Muggles got their ideas exactly from Nightmares. The red ones are born from places where war has passed, usually battle fields, the black are famine, the white pestilence and the cream death. The one at Potter Manor is probably red or cream. Nightmares can also fly, though they have no visible wings. They usually prefer to act like normal horses, and only fly if they have to move long distances. It is one of the reasons why they are so difficult to tame: if they don't like their owner, they simply fly away, and if you are stupid enough to cage one, well, they can become practically as dangerous as a Nundu."

"But they can be tamed?"

Looking at his boss' determined face, Mr. Perks sighed and said,

"Yes, they can be tamed. It's difficult, but it can be done. Nightmares are very loyal if they like you, which, mind you, is very difficult to accomplish, but even if they only tolerate their owner, they will grudgingly pull carriages for them, as long as they are kept warm and happy. Would you like me to contact a winged horse-tamer?"

"Yes, please."

"Very well. A small herd of two or three Thestrals was also found in the grounds, and at this point, I would recommend to have the expert deal with them too, rather than leaving them wild."

"Thestrals can be tamed? I had forgotten that…"

"Yes, of course. They aren't used as much as Pegasi and the like though, because they are much smaller and can't carry heavy burdens for long distances. Still, they are one of the fastest winged creatures out there, so if you want a discreet travel method and are prepared to ride on horseback rather than in a carriage, they are the what you should use."

"And Nightmares?"

"Nightmares are stronger and have a much higher endurance than other winged horses. For example, if you have a carriage that has to be pulled by two Abraxans, one Nightmare could easily pull the same. But, as I already said before, they rarely come in contact with humans, and are difficult to keep. Merlin, now that I think about it, if we manage to not scare it off, the horse would be worth a fortune…"

Mr. Perks trailed off, and started muttering and writing down ideas, while Harry-Tom leaned back and smirked, congratulating himself on a brilliant idea.

* * *

Two weeks later found Harry reading in his room at Snape's house, wondering idly what to do in the last week before school started.

He had already devoured all the Occlumency and Legilimency books from the Riddle vault, taking to the rare art like a fish to water. He wondered if maybe his ease in understanding Occlumency was because he technically already knew it, or if it was simply easier because he had already personally written notes on the book margins years ago to facilitate his learning. Legilimency instead was a bit more difficult, but since he was eight Harry-Tom could already tell if a person was lying outright, so he only had to build on that. The problem was that he now had to practice the spell on someone till he could do it without incantation and eye contact, but he was lacking both victims and volunteers. Shrugging, he wrote a note in his journal, to practice on a few unknowing Muggles next summer.

Harry-Tom picked up another book, a well-worn tome entitled _Guide to Fifty Premiere Magical Schools of the World, _deciding that it would be a good way to find out more about the Wizarding world. Five minutes later, he was white as a sheet: after the introduction, it listed all the magical schools of the world in order from best to worst, as determined by the ICW in 1967.

And of 103 schools in the world, Hogwarts came a far off 69th. It wasn't even described in this book!

Turning to the back page, he looked for the publishing date, and found out this was the Australian edition of 1968, and all his hopes shattered. He had hoped that maybe the book was biased towards a particular country, but only two of the fifty best schools were located in Australia, despite that nation having a dozen total. A quick search through the book showed that Voldemort had written loads of personal opinions in the margins, probably trying to find ways to improve his beloved Hogwarts.

Five hours later, he had read the whole book, and he was completely disgusted: Hogwarts' curriculum didn't offer half of these classes! Not to mention that the teachers didn't even have the time or inclination for one-on-one tutoring! And what of extra curricular activities? There were only clubs run by students, except Quidditch, and then only if you got on the team and weren't a first year.

Yes, he hadn't complained much about Hogwarts' curriculum when he first saw it, but then he had know about the Wizarding World for a week and hadn't compared it to that of any other schools! Somehow, he bet that other Muggle-raised kids weren't show the other options either… maybe he could start a class action? He had heard Vernon ranting about them once, and Mr. Perks would love it, he was certain…

* * *

That afternoon Harry made a quick trip to Diagon Alley to buy the newest edition of _Guide to Fifty Premiere Magical Schools of the World. _He almost strangled Mr. Blotts when he found out the shop kept it in the back: the biggest and most popular bookstore in the UK kept a book certified by the ICW where clients couldn't see it? If this didn't show the English Wizarding World's corruption, Harry didn't know what did…

When he finally got back home, he was fuming, and accidentally bumped into Snape when he was coming out of the potions lab.

"Harry? Is everything alright?"

Not trusting his voice, Harry-Tom dragged a flabbergasted Snape to the kitchen table and, after the two sat down, opened the new book to the list of magical schools in the world. Seeing Snape's eyes bug out, Harry realized with some satisfaction that his Professor hadn't know just how inadequate Hogwarts was. Perusing the list himself, Harry-Tom groaned: Hogwarts had actually fallen to 82nd place! This was ridiculous!

Trying to distract himself, Tom looked at the other schools, trying to recognize their names, and seeing that the list now showed 104 schools. Uh. Wonder who created a new magical school in the last 24 years?

While Harry was busy ruminating all this horrid information, It suddenly jumped in his lap, humming in contentment, and startling a shriek out of him. Flushing in anger, the kid looked down at the orange Puffskein, but his temper subsided immediately: the ball of fluff was purring and rubbing against him in delight, and Harry-Tom had never had someone who was so happy just to see him. It actually made him feel appreciated, as weird as that was. He suddenly felt bad about not having given the thing a name yet, as just calling it It was pretty lame, but he had honestly forgotten, being so caught up with his Occlumency and Legilimency studies. Harry groaned, thudding his scarred forehead against the table: he was become a sentimental Hufflepuff! Between the Nightmare and It, he had gone soft! For a bunch of animals!

Snape cleared his throat, and Harry looked up at him. The Professor was doing his best to stop himself from grinning, but it wasn't succeeding much and Harry-Tom, letting go of the last of his inhibitions, stuck out his tongue like a little kid, making the Professor finally lose control and laugh out loud. Tom grinned and started snickering soon after, not realizing that it was the first time in years that a genuine laugh passed his lips.

* * *

**A/N: **Help? A name for the fluffy menace? I haven't even decided if it's male or female yet…


End file.
